The Will of Four
by extracoolpainter
Summary: What will happen when four unlikely victims are thrown against each other in the Hunger Games? But, more importantly, who will come out?
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Rose's POV

The sunlight on the water was absolutely beautiful, scattering dapples across the waves in a confetti- like manner. It does this a lot, because we live in the water-filled District 4. The sun hadn't come up yet today, though, and it wasn't due for a half hour. I scanned the ground directly under the overhang of the roof in search of my friend James. He was nowhere in sight. I sighed. This was just like the lazy boy, not wanting to get up and see the sunrise, even though it was absolutely beautiful. As pretty as my sister was the night of her interview, when my dad pulled me on the couch to see.

She was gorgeous, the blue dress hanging from her shoulders like a waterfall. Tinges of white froth, blue and green. My sister was so strong, and so beautiful. Until her death at the hands of another tribute. I don't know how it happened. Just that the moment my dad heard that cannon, he came off the couch, and went inside his room. I never heard from him again. And this all happened when I was only 8.

Just then, I heard a whistle. I looked around. "Look up!" the voice called. I did, and there was James Peterson sitting there on the roof of the orphanage. "What are you doing up there?" "Oh, just waiting for you." "Ugh. I'm coming up." I climbed, without much difficulty, onto the roof. That's one of the perks of being small.

"Isn't it beautiful?" "Yeah, it really is. Hey, do you know if Miss Imu is going to give us something for the reaping? We hardly have any fancy clothes." "Well, on my first reaping day I got a dark green shirt and black pants, and since then they've given me that outfit every year, just a size up or whatever, so I guess they'll do the same for you." "I bet so. So, what's it like? Waiting for death to come?" "Well, it's pretty scary." "No! I bet it's delightful."

We talk a little more. Then, Miss Imu, the strict but kind orphanage queen, calls us. "Rose! I have to give you your outfit. James, have you grown out of yours?" "Yeah, it's a little tight." "Well, come inside, we'll get you a new one." We traipse inside, and I get a new outfit, one that's extremely pretty, more pretty than I could ever imagine.

It has a pink blouse with light pink flowers, and a grey skirt with ribbons around it in the pink color. Also, there's beige boots with green flowers that are just a little too big. I walk around, feeling almost like I did right before my sister died. Beautiful. Actually happy.

Tamia's POV

I'm reading my book in the square, but not really reading it. Thinking. Marking lines in the margins. Writing similar tragedies. Painting a picture with my thoughts. Mom is working today. Dad has recovered enough to go back out into the fields this morning. We all applauded him. Me, Mom, and my younger sister Jamilla, who's three. After that, Mom had to go back out. I just got back from the woods, where I scavenged for edible berries. I don't think I'd ever be able to kill something. It's more of a mental aspect than a physical one. If I wanted to, I could kill half the Capitol. I'm strong, thanks to a lifetime of cutting wheat.

I fully forgive my father. He may carry the physical illusion of strength, but inside he'll melt as easily as ice. When Hanna was killed, the entire family had a meltdown. Jamilla wasn't born yet. She never knew Hanna. But Hanna was the best sister in the world. She'd carry me through the square on her shoulders, teach me to flip upside down and hang from a tree. A tree so plentiful in District 11. Anyways, I have to stop before I cry.

There's this boy, Dustin Rodriguez, who's my best friend. He's been acting a bit strange lately, and I can't help but wonder why. It's so weird. I pack up my books and go home, ready to try on the reaping outfit that Mom got me. She says it's beautiful. It's around noon now, and the reaping is tomorrow at 1:30. It starts at 8:30 for District 1, and then there's 9:00 for District 2, 9:30 for District 3, 10:00 for District 4, so on.

I walk into our little cottage, which has two bedrooms, my mom and dad's, and mine and Jamilla's. Then, the kitchen slash dining room, and a small bathroom with a miniscule tub. Mom says, "I laid your dress out on the bed." I go into it and see a pretty white dress with periwinkles on it.

I put it on, don the matching socks and black shoes, and then go out to see my mom. Jamilla thinks I look gorgeous. So does mom. Dad isn't home yet, but mom says to keep it on until he gets back. I look at the clock, and say, "No, I can't, my job starts in three minutes." My mom inclines her head, and then I go into my room and put on the white shirt and jeans that everyone has to wear at work. Maybe I'll see Dustin there. He doesn't officially have a job, but he shows up from time to time. I trudge to the field, my spirits soaring as I crunch helpless rocks under my shoes.

Rose's POV

"Ow! Ouch! Quit it! Ow! Ouch! Ow! You're going to give me a concussion!" "A concussion? I only hit your head like twice!" "Well, it hurt. If you were aiming for the basket, you have horrible aim." "With apples. And anyways, I wasn't aiming for the basket." I say gleefully. He turns around and eyes me, laden with apple ammo. He pegs me in the arm. "Oops, sorry. I was aiming for the basket." He says sarcastically. I have to laugh. Then, he smiles. One of the few times he's been able to pull a genuine laugh out of me. And never on reaping day. Even though this is my first.

"Let's go in. Miss Imu will be mad, it's almost ten." "Oh. Well, if I don't see you again, Happy Hunger Games!" He smiles faintly, and then helps me down from the tree.

I go into the ivy-covered building. My room is up all the ladders, even across a lot of rafters. It's in the attic, which was the only way I could have my own room. And I like being alone. I have to swing on the rope over them, because one false step between the swinging death traps and I'm through the ceiling. I finally get to the room, where the outfit is sitting on the bed. I pull it on, and then put the golden locket that holds a picture of my family around my neck. I sit on the bed awhile until 9:56, and then I swing out of the attic and into the square. Back outside, where I like it the most.

The peacekeepers take a blood sample. He scans it, and then gasps when the "Rose Lenn, 12/YO" type comes onto the screen. I look at his face and recognize him as one of the peacekeepers that took Dad away. I feel anger rise in me, but before I know it, he's pushing me along, whispering, "We killed him, sweetheart." I wonder if he's right or just trying to unnerve me. Probably the latter.

I remember that my hair's in a braid. I quickly take it out and braid it down the side. I take the time that they're sharing the "War, terrible war." video, which I have no interest in, and mentally scold myself for not remembering to do a net braid because that would look pretty.

Finally, the escort, who introduces herself as Pearl Wikka, steps up and says, "Ladies first." I tighten my fingers in a knot as the lady takes one high-heeled step at a time to the huge glass reaping ball. She's reading the name. I don't even care to hope for myself, just hoping the other orphans at the home won't get picked, when I hear a vaguely familiar name. "Rose Lenn." It takes a while before I recognize it as my own. I glance at James on the way out, but he has his hair scrunched up between his fingers and his face is red.

I stare out at all the people, willing myself not to cry. I must be strong. As strong as I was the day they took away Dad. As strong as I was seeing a bloody, mangled, dead carcass on the screen being placed as my sister. But no tears fought their way into my eyes to come. After all I've been through; it's out of their habit. And I'm thankful.

I barely hear the next name, "James Peterson." I mentally groan, but I don't take care to do it on the stage. His face redder than ever, we shake hands and then we are shoved into the Justice building.

Nobody comes to visit me, and I'm not surprised. There's no one I love anymore out in the world, besides James and possible my dad. Pearl gathers us into the car after a short while, where she is pissed to find out that neither of us will talk. When we enter the train, I'm surprised at all the grandeur. Even the Justice Building is like a fifth this fancy. Wordless, I am shown to my compartment and told to change for dinner.

I do that in about five minutes, because it takes awhile to program the closet. After ten I finally figure out the shower buttons and punch the right ones, almost certain I'm wrong. As a lemony yellow foam engulfs me, I know I must be right about being wrong. I scrub it off, then dress in my carefully selected blue shirt and black pants.

At dinner, we are served apples, a delicious meat somebody tells me is 'prime rib', and some broccoli doused in some sort of oil. We don't get dessert, but nobody complains because we're all so stuffed. Pearl breaks the silence by introducing us to the mentors. "Rose, James, this is Casey Winter," she points to a thin tall blonde, "And Thomas Jeter." A dark- skinned man with dark eyes and black hair waves.

"When we get to the capitol, so first thing tomorrow, your prep teams are going to take hold of you. Don't protest them or your stylist, because they really do have your best interests at heart." We blindly nod at Casey's words, and in silence Pearl turns on the TV and we watch the reapings.

Most of them I'm sure I'll forget by tomorrow, but a couple stand out. Two blondes, with blue and green eyes on the girl and the boy respectively, come forward. I think the girl is Sparkle and the boy is Hank, but I couldn't be sure. District 2 looks like the same beastly tributes that I see each year. Nobody else strikes me as memorable except the pair from District 11.

The girl, Tamia, I recognize only faintly. I feel like I met her in some alternate dimension. I don't know where I know her from, though. The boy looks very strong. After that, the normally thin and coal- covered District 12 tributes come up and the emblem appears, and the music plays, then the screen goes blank because Pearl turned it off.

I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. The mentors and Pearl compare tribute's odds of winning, while I wish I could go inside my bedroom. A minute later, when they start talking about dying and James starts to look green, I go to my bedroom.

Sleepy as I am, I won't let myself rest until I get in a decent nightgown. I wrap myself up in the covers and find myself conked out until sunrise the next morning.

4 Page


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

The only reason I woke up right then was because we were traveling through the Capitol. The newly risen sun was glancing off the white buildings. It looked absolutely stunning. Amazingly beautiful. Almost as pretty as the sunrise on the shore. The moment two days ago. When I was free, or at least as free as someone like me could be.

I am rewarded a relaxed scene when I enter the meal cart. Nobody's in here yet, so I take a little hot chocolate and some waffles with syrup and sit down, being sure not to eat too fast. It's at least an hour and an entire plate of strawberries until someone comes in.

Casey, rubbing her sleepy eyes, takes one look at me and backs away. "You probably want to be alone," she explains. I shake my head. "No, stay. And while you're here, could you braid my hair like yours? It looks pretty." "Oh, yes. I've been looking for someone to try this on."

She braids my hair in a long style down my back, with little strands of hair tucked into the middle at random intervals. "Cute!" she pronounces. I smile, and then go into the car to change into a fancy Capitol outfit.

Since it takes forever to program the closet, everyone's out and finished with breakfast when I finally get out of the bedroom. I also did some makeup and stuff too. I put on a blue top with ruffles, a beaded black necklace that has really huge beads, and some black pants that are really stretchy. At the last second, I remember to put my hair in a fishtail.

When I come out, Pearl instantly rises and examines my outfit. She has on a pink ensemble today, complete with pink mascara and all that filth. "Rose, honey, go put on something more fancy. This is the first time potential sponsors will see you. Nothing too fancy, but no pants." I sigh, and trod back to my room, and put on a plain yellow long-sleeved shirt, a red jacket, and a cute little silver skirt with black sandals that have rhinestones on them. "Much better," Pearl concludes.

She also gives me a floppy grey hat and a cheetah- print scarf. I put them on, then turn around for the full effect from Pearl. "Way better." I notice James has on a white shirt, black pants, and a little bowtie. I hold back a snigger. He sticks his tongue out at me.

Instantly, the cameras start flashing. Why are they taking photos of us? Oh, because we're tributes. Fresh meat for the jaws of the hungry Capitol. I let my hair out of its braid, smile, and wave. They cheer and throw roses at me. The irony. Even more ironic is the smallest pink one I see crumpled under some random Capitol woman's shoe.

I look away and continue smiling and waving at the Capitol citizens. They're not as painful to the eyes as one might think, though. Just that their fashions were a bit strange, nothing we could or would do in District 4.


End file.
